Owls and Ravens
1
Lee Venture looked out her hotel window, a notepad in hand. She sipped from a cup of coffee in her other hand as she took a break from the transcribing she had come along to do. A conference of librarians had drawn her from the more comfortable environment of Harvard to the Big Apple.
She was glad to have the room to herself, even for a little while. Two of the other assistants had driven down from Boston with her, and the university had put all three up in the same room while the conference was going on. The silence of her own thoughts was a comfort after being cooped up with other people for as long as she had.
Lee put the note pad down on the table she had moved from the side of the bed to the side of one of the two chairs in the room. She stretched the kinks that had developed in her muscles. Maybe she should take a walk for a while, and then get back to work after she had recharged. The sun was going down outside, maybe she could fly as her alter ego for a few minutes before finishing up.
It would be good to get out in the open air and leave some of her responsibilities behind for just a moment.
Lee put her cup down as she walked into the bathroom connecting her room to the next one. She raised her hands over her head, then brought them down. Her business blouse and skirt became the deep red dress and cloak she wore as the Crimson Raven. She masked her face before drawing her hood up.
Lee extended her shadow to the ceiling so that it resembled a bird flapping its wings. She floated through that blackness, passing herself through to the roof of the hotel. The skyline was breathtaking, and not just because of the fumes of a busy city life.
Boston was an urban metropolis, but Lee knew that New York dwarfed almost every other major city on the East Coast. Millions of people went about their lives in the concrete jungle she was observing.
Lee drew her cloak in close, letting a black bird take her place on the roof. It flapped shadow wings as it launched into the air. It soared over the city, glad to be free to fly again. Soon enough Lee would have to get back to work on her notes. Now she was in an exclusive heaven that no one could spoil.
The shadow bird aimed for the Statue of Liberty and enjoyed the view of the city it received as it covered the miles in a matter of seconds. Just being able to do what she was doing was a reward in itself.
2
Nick Gray wished he could fly sometimes. That would take him away from some of the things he had to confront in his earthbound life. He checked his weapons as he watched a house across the street in the gray regalia he used as the Owlhoot.
Gray worked as a private investigator, but he moonlighted as a vigilante. His twin careers helped him try to keep the city streets clean since most of the mystery men had faded away at the end of the war, and those that still used the mask as he did, had their own fish to fry.
Gray had been on the lookout for a few hours. He was about to give up for the night when he saw the man he was waiting for. The mook had his head down as he walked down the street toward the dark edifice. He didn't look around as he headed up the three steps to the porch, key in his right hand.
Gray waited until he saw the light go on in the front of the place. Then he jogged across the street, eyes searching for anything that might be out of place as he ran. He wanted this to be as simple a job as it looked.
Mostly none of his cases were as simple as the client presented them. A few hours on a job, and everything turned into a puzzle of unrelated pieces mixed together in the same box.
Gray walked up to the porch, and knocked. He wanted this to be as aboveboard as he could make it since he really didn't have a reason to be harassing the guy he wanted to talk to. Rumor said the man was a fence, but no one had proved anything yet.
And rumor could be wrong as it sometimes was.
The masked cowboy waited for a minute before knocking again. He didn't want to spook the guy into running out the back. He especially didn't want to have to chase the man down.
Nick smiled when he saw the door knob turn. This might be as easy as he thought. The wooden panel pulled back to reveal the ferret face of the man he had been waiting for him. The door slamming forward didn't surprise the detective. He shoved forward before the move could be completed.
Nick's shoulder pushed the door out of the way with his full weight behind it. His gloved hand reached for the man's shoulder, and only snagged his coat. The ferret was already charging across the room, toward the back of the house.
It had come across the Atlantic in the duffle bag of a sailor. It abandoned him to the point of a knife. Then it changed hands five more times before it came into the possession of Manfred Mabe. He put it under glass, on a shelf, among the other curios he had gathered from all over the world.
Then it was stolen again from Mabe by an associate, who lost it gambling to a man who lost it to someone else. It changed hands a few more times before Ira Berman snapped it up at an auction. It sat on his desk for a month before someone stole it from him. Berman called in an expert to get his prize back. That's why Nick Gray, in his cowboy's regalia, was chasing a man through that worthy's house.
The ferrety man made a straight run for the back of the small building, heading for the back door. His arm brushed aside anything that tried to get in his way, slinging the loose item at the masked cowboy. That bought him time as Nick had to bob and weave to avoid the flung lamps, pictures, and knickknacks. The fugitive pulled the back door open, and scrambled through it just out of reach of the Owlhoot's grasping hand.
Nick charged out into the back yard, drawing his left-hand pistol as his quarry ran toward the fence blocking the way to an alley behind the row. The ferret sprinted for the plank gate. Nick pulled the trigger before he could get halfway across the yard. The special bullet struck the man's back and knocked him over. He tried to get up, but the Owlhoot had a boot in his neck before he could.
"Let's talk," he said, smiling under the wide mask he wore.
"I don't know anything," said the ferret, trying to push the boot away, but not succeeding. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you masked men creeps anything."
"I know you got a statue earlier today," said the Owlhoot, white teeth glittering in the shadow of his hat. "Everyone in town knows it. I know it was stolen. I'm willing to cut you a deal. You get to walk, if you hand it over."
"That ugly thing?," said the ferret. "I sold it already. Got it out of my shop as fast as possible."
"Whom did you sell it to?," said the vigilante, gesturing with the drawn gun in his hand.
"I don't know his name," said the ferret. "I just wanted to get rid of it, so I took the best offer I could get. It's probably on its way out of town by now."
"You better give me something," said the Owlhoot. "Otherwise I am going to step on your neck something awful."
"His name was Howard," said the ferret. "That's all I know. He's a small guy, balding, 30-40 years old, with a baby face."
"That wasn't so hard, was it?," said the masked cowboy. "Of course it will be easy to track you down if you're lying. You savvy?"
The ferret nodded frantically.
3
Lee Venture soared over the strange city, reveling in her freedom. It had been a long time since she had been able to enjoy the sensation. Mostly she seemed to be trying to get to one place or another while trying to avert some catastrophe.
One could almost imagine New York as some metropolis of the future from the air. Lee knew that was an illusion cast by height. On the ground, the city was as dangerous as any city anywhere.
Lee floated aimlessly among the skyscrapers in her black bird form until she felt something pull at her. The sinister tug pointed her to one of the rivers that bordered the island. She didn't know the name of the river, but whatever had attracted her attention lay somewhere beyond.
Lee turned to follow the feeling.
The shadow sailed smoothly over the running water. It warped along the rooftops dotting the shore on the other side until it landed on a small brownstone in the middle of a row of such buildings joined together. The dark bird flapped its wings, allowing Lee to step on the tarred roof before it faded to oblivion.
Lee spread her fingers out so they resembled bird wings. Between their edges, a picture formed. A man was coming down the street. He had a package tucked under one arm, clutched tightly against his ribs. His eyes searched the street for any signs of trouble.
Whatever was in that bundle was triggering her awareness. It could be anything, but Lee thought it was some kind of amulet, or talisman. It had enough self-awareness to block her probes at it. The way the man clutched it, he must know that it had a power.
Lee decided the best thing to do was follow the man as he scuttled through the streets below. Her mystic prowess would keep her on his trail until he stopped. Then she could try to get a closer look at whatever he had wrapped up in the brown paper.
Lee felt the waves rolling from that thing. She knew that it meant that there was no telling if the package was responsible, or the man. It also meant she would have to make sure that neither took her by surprise.
Someone possessed was just as dangerous as someone who knew what they were doing, perhaps more because of their lack of restraint that would make a normal man rethink.
And Lee would be forced to hold back her full power so that she wouldn't hurt the innocent by mistake.
4
Nick Gray rode his motorcycle through nighttime traffic as fast as he dared. Luckily the rush out of the city was already over, so the remaining dregs didn't slow him as much as it would have a car. He still had to cross the island, and then a bridge, and then half of another borough to get where he needed to be.
Hopefully the tip was right on the money.
The Owlhoot rolled to a stop in an alley across the street from where he had been told the stolen statue was. He parked the bike behind some trash bins. Better to conceal it from prying eyes until he needed it again.
Movement attracted the masked cowboy's attention. Somebody was home, and walking in front of the windows of the house across the street. That was good. He checked the loads on his pistols before he walked across the street.
This could be the big wrap-up, and he hadn't even been on the job more than a day.
The Owlhoot casually checked the scene as he crossed the small yard, and stepped on the wooden porch. He couldn't just bust the door down. He needed to look around before he did anything rash. He raised one hand and knocked.
It had already worked once tonight. Why not again?
The heavy sound of Gray's fist on wood stirred the tenant into approaching the door. He heard the man pause on the other side of the door. He could almost hear wheels turning.
"Who is it?," said a reedy voice.
"Telegram for Schwartz," said Gray. He hoped the guy would open the door just enough for him to barge in. Otherwise he would have to kick the door down and do things the hard way.
"There's no Schwartz here," said the voice. "Go bother someone else."
Nick shook his head as he stepped back. The guy wasn't going to open the door. He would have to take things into his own hands. One booted foot drove into the wooden panel. The flimsy barrier exploded from its hinges, and then fell to one side. The cowboy bounded across the threshold, a pistol drawn. The owner of the reedy voice had stepped back from the door busting. He didn't appear to be afraid, or even interested in a mystery man charging at him.
Nick reached for the smaller man, committed to his move. He saw the statue in the man's hand, realizing that he had been put on the right track after all. There was a small flash, like a Christmas tree light. Then the floor gave away under the masked cowboy, sending him into the basement of the house.
Nick heard a crack overhead as he headed for the concrete floor of the basement. He covered his head, tucking and rolling as soon as he touched down. Jagged pieces of floor dropped down where he would have been if he had been a touch slower.
"How about a little bad luck, cowboy?," said the new owner of the statue from above. "You should have taken off when I said so."
Nick threw himself to one side with lightning reflexes as more of the floor fell into the basement. He didn't know why this was happening, but knew he needed a safe haven from the falling debris. The masked cowboy hunched into a corner, hoping that would give some shelter from the jagged, wooden rain.
Then the walls collapsed on the Owlhoot as he tried to protect his head from the wood and plaster. Finally the pile up stopped, and he allowed himself to exhale under the mound that pressed him down. Nick took a moment to consider his next move as calmly as possible.
Nick pulled one of his revolvers from its holster. He pulled out one of the shells, palming it in his hand. He pulled another shell from his belt, and fitted it in the cylinder. He was glad the four matched shells had not gone off in his gun belt. That would have cut him in half the way things were going. The breech snapped shut as the Owlhoot made sure the special bullet was under the hammer. He took aim and fired.
The hand loaded bullet slammed into the heap from the partially collapsed house. There was a spark as the shell exploded. All of the force of the explosion was directed outward by the shape of the projectile so none of it blew back on Nick where he huddled against the mass dropping on him squarely. A hole appeared where the bullet had struck. Some of the pile shifted to cover it up. That left fractures around the top of the hill that the cowboy could see through where he stood.
Nick loaded and fired two more of the special bullets, placing the last one back on his gun belt. He pushed and the top of the pinning mound slid out of his way so that he could pull himself free and clear. He looked around, listening. The statue buyer must have left to get of town somehow since someone had already come looking for the thing he had caressed.
The Owlhoot pushed back his hat as he caught his breath. Then he pulled himself up through the hole in the floor that had been created by the statue. He listened some more before he went for the front door. The place was empty as far as he could tell, and he didn't think the guy would stick around after what had happened.
He sure wouldn't have.
5
Lee Venture floated over the city, following the strange vibrations that had shook the night. She knew it was because something had grabbed the nature of reality and twisted it. It was similar to what wizards like she did, but in an amateurish disregard to the world.
She couldn't allow whomever responsible keep doing what he, or she, was doing. Eventually it would trigger something major that no mage could stop.
Lee's shadow self alighted on a house's roof, fading as she turned her attention to locating the feel ahead. She raised her hands, forming a flapping bird between them. The black silhouette raced ahead, letting her see with its invisible eyes.
The shadow raven found a man walking along the sidewalk, a package under his arm. He seemed unconcerned as he strode purposely toward the entrance to a subway station ahead. The package under the man's arm glowed to the created bird as it perched on a ledge high above the street.
The man descended the concrete steps, glancing over his shoulder furtively. He clutched the package tighter to prevent it from falling out of his grip, and crashing to the floor. The walker quickly vanished from his hound's point of view.
Lee sent her bird after the man, knowing that she had to look at that package and take it away from him if she couldn't render it harmless. Whatever it was had already sent out a vibration through the nature of reality that anyone with the talent could feel.
Lee gathered her flying form around her and took to the air. Her spy would dog the carrier until she caught up with both of them. Then she would try to talk to the man first before she did anything rash.
A peaceful solution was better than a battle against an unknown opponent who didn't want her interference.
6
Nick Gray, the Owlhoot, rushed through the city streets, looking for the man that had gotten away from him. He didn't have an idea of what he was facing, but had a notion it was tied to the statue he was supposed to recover as a private eye.
Nick thought that he had spotted his man walking into a subway entrance. He pulled his bike over, leaving it in an alley, as he chased after the possible thief. He had already decided that he couldn't let the statue go back to his client. It was far too dangerous for that.
That thing rotted the house that had fallen on him in a matter of seconds. There was no telling how much damage it could really do. Nick wasn't prepared to find out the hard way either.
Nick dashed down the subway steps, mask and costume clearing the way for him through the pedestrians leaving the station. He jumped the turnstile to get to the platform. He cursed softly as the train pulled out of the station with his quarry on board as he charged forward. The cowboy did the only thing he could think of as he ran beside the departing vehicle. He threw himself at the back of the train, grabbing a window to keep from falling to the tracks.
The Owlhoot clung to his perch as the train clacketed through the tunnels to the next station. Nick should have considered retrieving his bike and just riding to the next station ahead of the train. One look at the station map would have told him the line and stops.
His impulsive act had earned him a precarious place on the vehicle, but he needed to get solid footing under him. He couldn't hang from the window the whole way to the next station.
Nick looked around for a solution. He had jumped on the train almost at the back. A landing should be at the rear of the train for an emergency exit. He worked his way along the window frame until he was only a few feet away. The masked cowboy swung a leg and got a precarious foothold on the small set of steps that led down from the rear stage. Once he had both feet planted, he pushed off from the window frame with one hand while catching the safety rail with the other hand. He pulled himself to a standing position.
Nick pulled the door open, and slid inside. He wasn't prepared to fight his enemy on a subway train with a bunch of prospective hostages near at hand. He would wait until the statue bearer got off the train, follow him somewhere secluded, and attempt an ambush. He wasn't prepared for a battle that could get anyone but himself killed.
If that meant he had to wait, so be it.
7
The Crimson Raven soared between buildings. Her creation reported its whereabouts with machine efficiency as the train rolled to its next stop almost faster than her spell could carry her. If she kept meddling in other people's affairs, she would have to think about using faster spells.
She landed on a roof across from the train station. She had to wait to make sure her quarry didn't get off before she traced the line to the next stop. She couldn't lose the statue holder, nor could she reveal her interest until she was ready for what could happen. A distraction would be nice if she could arrange one.
Lee wondered if she was being overly cautious. Maybe she should just set up a blind in front of whatever it was and blast it with all the magic at her command. Maybe that would get her killed. It was better to observe and wait for the right chance when it presented itself instead of rushing in blind. It wasn't wrong to want to know what she was facing before she tried to do something about it.
An average man emerged with a small crowd from the station. He looked along both sides of the sidewalk before turning left and heading away from Lee's vantage point. She could feel the strange waves running from the brown paper wrapping under the man's arm. Even the insensitive on the street with him, gave him room to move.
That was a good thing as far as Lee was concerned.
She didn't want to throw spells in the middle of a crowded area. That was a good way to get bystanders hurt unnecessarily. It was better to keep her spy working on the man, and wait until she could talk to him in private. Whatever he was carrying had the potential of a bomb.
As Lee watched the street, she noticed a masked cowboy emerge from the station. He casually walked behind her quarry despite the stares his getup elicited from his fellow street walkers. This was an unexpected development. At least he wasn't shooting his six guns in the middle of the avenue.
Lee took on her shadow form, taking to the air again. This could be a help to her plans. Magic took time to fashion and hurl at the target. If someone acted as a decoy, she could hurl her spell at the most advantageous time without danger to herself. The decoy would have to take care of himself while she was getting ready.
It was not the perfect solution she would have wanted, but it was the only way she felt would work against whatever was in the package.
Lee knew that dealing with the unknown was a dangerous thing no matter how much she was prepared to counter the spell, or demonic thing involved.
8
Nick Gray, the Owlhoot, trailed his suspect through the streets, trying to blend in with the crowd as well as his black and gray costume would allow. He still drew looks from the pedestrians on the street, but no one challenged him. That would have drawn attention that he couldn't take at the moment.
The last thing he wanted was the man with the statue to turn around and use it in the middle of a crowd. It would be a manmade disaster. Many of these bystanders would be hurt even if all it did was crack the street open to the city's underground. There was no telling the cost if a building fell.
Nick was happy when his quarry left the street and entered a small apartment building after a few more blocks of walking. Hopefully that meant he was going to settle in for the night, and the masked cowboy could take him by surprise. His first goal was to get the statue away from the man's possession. That should forestall any damage to the building.
Then he could think about how he could destroy the statue once and for all.
There was no way he was going to turn it over to his client after this. That would just be creating problems for others down the road. It was a breach, but he was prepared to refund the money to protect the city.
Nick went to the front of the apartment building after watching it for a few minutes. One light had clicked on after the man had entered. Since no other resident had been visible to the vigilante, he assumed that was the apartment number he wanted. He checked the number by counting the floors, and noting the layout of the ground floor apartments. The other floors would be set up the same way.
The Owlhoot took the stairs, hoping that surprise would help carry the day. He wasn't going to explain any damage to the neighborhood if he didn't succeed. That was one of the reasons he wore a mask in the first place.
Nick paused at the door to the apartment, listening for any clue to what was going on behind the wooden barrier. He could hear some movement, but nothing conclusive. He decided the best thing was to knock the door down and hope he had the right set of rooms.
It would be embarrassing to crash into the wrong place.
The Owlhoot slammed into the locked door with his shoulder. The lock ripped out of the door frame, chain catching before it pulled away in a tinkle of metal. The statue holder looked around in surprise, hand wrapped around the obsidian thing. Nick's pistol roared before the man could point the thing at him. Both went down under the touch of a rubber bullet.
"I think this is the end of the line for you, partner," said Nick. "That thing is going to the bottom of the ocean before you can do anything with it."
"You should have used real lead," said the average man. "Too late for that now."
The room shifted in reality for a second. Nick registered a string of images before he fell back. The six shooter in his hand came apart in a cloud of dust as he staggered under the pressure of changing possibilities.
"This is the end of the line for you, hero," said the master of reality as he blinked to his feet, rubbing the soreness out of his arm and shoulder. "I studied and studied to master the Loom of the Three, then I actually took possession of it. No vigilante in a stupid costume is going to take away what I have. You're just going to have to die if I can't convince you to leave me alone."
"What about a wizardess in a stupid costume?," said a feminine voice behind Nick as he went for his other gun in a blur. Black shadows filled the space with flapping wings between him and the thinner man. That sent him reeling into the small kitchen space adjoining his living room.
Nick pulled the trigger on his surviving pistol, aiming for a knockout blow with the special load. He frowned as he considered the implication that he was facing someone vastly more powerful than anything he had ever came across before. The statue itself lay on the floor in two pieces, dull and lifeless with its magic gone.
The bullet flew wide of where Nick had been aiming. He knew it was because his enemy had changed the flight path of the bullet to protect himself. The masked cowboy emptied the pistol, knowing it would do him little good. His persistence was rewarded by the repeating thump of hard hit wood.
A cloaked woman in a crimson dress pointed at the man as she marched into the apartment. She seemed to be trying to subdue the master of reality with birds of darkness ripped from the air. The statue holder reached for the spells and turned them into flowers that rained to the floor.
"You two should play your games elsewhere," said the master of reality. "I don't have time for this right now."
Nick and his rescuer lurched as the world twisted around them. Suddenly snow covered a flat ground as far as the eye could see. A swirling ribbon of color drifted in the sky overhead.
"That went exactly like I planned it," said Nick, reloading his surviving pistol with a few quick movements of his hands.
The Crimson Raven wrapped her cloak tightly around her body as she examined the waste confronting them. Her cowl helped her mask conceal her face as she waited for the right moment.
"Not very talkative, are you?," Nick said, replacing the gun in its holster.
The woman in red held the broken statue's halves in her hands, extending them out to arms' length. A hole opened in space in front of her, the two pieces forming a circular line connecting them to each other. A city street was visible through the round gate she had opened.
"Let's get out of here," Lee Venture said, smiling slightly at the night rider's astonishment.
Stanley Howard looked around his once wrecked apartment, feeling that he was missing something important. It had taken a second to put things right after his confrontation with those two meddlers. The Owlhoot had been expected, but not the woman.
She had used something akin to what he had taken from the Loom.
Where was the Loom? He had dropped it on the floor when he had been shot. It should have been placed in a spot on the mantle above his false fireplace. Why hadn't it appeared where he had thought it?
He needed more time with it. His brief exposure had allowed him to twist possibilities to go his way. That's how he had gotten rid of those two pests. He had arranged a possibility that they were really visiting the North Pole. Exposure should kill them quickly if a hungry polar bear didn't. The Loom still held power he could use to reshape the world once he figured out how to do it.
Changing one outcome such as what happened at a battlefield could give him an opening to exploit until he had amassed enough power and knowledge from the victor to place him in charge of things none would dare tell him not to research.
It was a paranatural scientist's dream.
Stanley could make things beyond imagination with the right tug of his mind on the right possibility.
What had happened to the two pieces of statue he needed to continue with his research? Surely he hadn't wiped them out of existence with a stray thought. He would have remembered that he felt. Something was wrong with this picture.
"I'm back," said the Owlhoot, appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the apartment. Both of his guns roared before Stanley could think to stop him. Twin projectiles smashed into the master of reality, sending him tumbling to the ground. Howard realized something was wrong instantly.
All of his power was draining away through the two impacts he had suffered. He would only have enough energy to cause one, maybe two, causal chains before he couldn't use his newfound ability again. He was looking at imprisonment with the loss of his powers on top of that.
Stanley did the only thing he could think of to do. He imagined the possibility where his place was engulfed in a fiery furnace. It wasn't a perfect solution, but the Owlhoot's amazement made him smile. That should keep the cowboy busy long enough.
Stanley felt a counter to his use of the Loom. That must be the woman trying to keep the building from burning down around them and his helpless neighbors would probably have no clue what was going on. The ceiling started to cave in on him. He could see the boards falling as he seized the chance to continue his existence with any hope of freedom.
Fire seemed to swallow Stanley up as he pushed everything into his last use of the Loom so that he could make his escape. It doubled the firestorm in the apartment to a heat capable of incinerating his body in a few seconds. Then the fire died away and the place fixed itself as if nothing had happened.
Nick Gray looked around, glad that he had not been scorched by the last suicidal act of a desperate man. The case was closed except for what he would tell his client to keep him happy at the results of the investigation.
He wasn't looking forward to that.
epilogue
Nick Gray and Lee Venture stood on a street corner not far from their confrontation with Stanley Howard. Nick's gray Stetson was pushed back as he watched the people walking around him and the cloaked magician.
"It looks like everything has come out right as roses," he said.
"I wouldn't say that," the Crimson Raven said, her cloak wrapped around her body heavily. "All we have done is recover the statue. The thief is still out there. We have no idea what his next move will be, or if he has any other resources to call upon."
"He'll have to come after us for the two pieces," said the Owlhoot. "We'll get him then. Right now that's all we have to use to bag this guy. Otherwise, we could look around for the rest of our lives to find his hidey hole."
"I have to agree," said Lee. "I wish there was some other way but he didn't leave anything behind to use as a clue. I have a feeling he won't let this go."
"Neither am I," said Nick, adjusting his hat. "I have to think of something to tell my client and move onto my next case. Here's my card in case you need to talk again."
Lee took the plain paper, tracing the embossed owl head and phone number. She nodded as she made the card vanish under her cape.
"This is mine," the lady of the bird said.
Nick examined the flat dark bird she handed him. The hole where the eye should have been still seemed to glare at him with certain knowledge. It seemed unfriendly just looking at it.
"I live in Boston so there may be some delay for me to contact you when you use it," said Lee. "That's not mentioning personal business that I may be involved in. Just hold it and think of me. That will turn it on."
"Got it," said Nick, turning with a half salute and a nod of his head. "I hope things are this easy the next time we meet."
Lee watched him mix into the crowd until he was gone from sight among the pedestrians. Then she flapped her cloak into the bird form she preferred for flight. She had to get back to her hotel so she could enjoy the rest of her visit to the city. She looked forward to packing and taking the train back to Massachusetts.
She wanted to be back on her home ground as soon as she could manage it. New York was a nice place to visit but she didn't want to live there.